Sequel to Making Their Way
by Nerin
Summary: As yet untitled. The Lorelais get a new house, a new routine, and a new grasp on their relationship.


_A/N: Thanks to the overwhelming number of hits and the enthusiastic nature of the few reviews, I bring you installment two of The Gilmore Way – yet to be titled. I am open to suggestions, though I want to work the word "way" in somewhere. I dunno, I'm weird like that. Anyway, the chapters in this story will seem longer because of all the dialogue, but that's what we love about our dear Gilmore girls, right?_

_Enjoy!_

_

* * *

_When Rory opened her eyes, she became aware of two things. One, she had gotten up before her alarm again and her mother was going to mock her mercilessly. Two, Lorelai could begin that mocking immediately because she was sitting in the armchair at the foot of the bed. 

"Jeez!" Rory gasped. "You scared me!"

"Good morning, my little freak," Lorelai cooed.

"What are you doing?" Rory groaned, shoving her covers aside.

"It's your first day of junior high! Soon you'll be entering those precious teen years when you'll want to dress like everyone else and pierce your nose and, uh, light up behind a drugstore!"

"Uh-huh." Rory padded up the stairs to the bathroom.

Lorelai followed her. "Remember, if you dye your hair I recommend blue. It'll bring out your eyes."

"Okay." Rory shut the door.

"So what are you going to wear?" Lorelai called through the door.

"I don't know." Rory came out and stared wide-eyed at her mother, terrified. "What if I look dumb?"

"Oh, sweetie. You never look dumb. Just wear whatever's comfortable."

"I hate picking out clothes." Rory plodded back down the stairs.

Lorelai gaped after her. "You are _so_ not my daughter!"

"And I'm hungry," Rory called from her closet.

"Fine, fine, one special first-day-of-junior-high breakfast coming up!"

Half an hour later, Rory walked into the kitchen and stared at the table.

"Ta-da!" Lorelai said grandly.

"They're Pop-Tarts."

"_S'mores_ Pop-Tarts!" was the indignant reply.

Rory sighed and picked up her Pop-Tart. "We need to find real food."

"Ungrateful child! You are grumbling about the beautiful and tasty breakfast I _slaved_ over…"

"You opened a box and put them in the toaster," Rory mumbled through a mouthful of said breakfast.

Lorelai huffed. "I'll look around today."

"Thank you."

* * *

The first bell rang, and Rory hugged her mother goodbye and walked off with Lane down the hallway, talking excitedly until she realized that Lane was not in her first class. They waved and walked into their separate classrooms. After first period, they met in the hall to compare schedules. Only one class together, and different lunches. 

"This stinks," Lane said with a frown as students milled around them.

"I thought we'd be in more classes together," Rory agreed.

"Well, we'll meet after school and walk to my house together, though, right?"

The second-period bell rang. "Yeah," Rory answered. "See you."

When lunch finally came around, Rory was tired of being around people who wouldn't talk to her. _At least I have Jane Austen_, she thought, pulling _Emma_ out of her bag and putting her headphones on.

* * *

It was eleven-thirty, and Lorelai had already had the longest day of her life. Everything that _could_ have gone wrong, _had_. The linen man wrecked his truck and couldn't deliver towels or sheets or tablecloths, and she'd caught a maid swiping tips from rooms she hadn't cleaned, and two of the vacuum cleaners had exploded. So, frustrated and weary, Lorelai marched into Stars Hollow for her daily cup of Weston's coffee. 

Weston's was closed.

She certainly hoped there was a damn good reason for this desertion. Spinning around, Lorelai clutched her hair and bit back a scream. She _had_ to have coffee.

It was then that a sign outside William's Hardware caught her eye. It was yellow. And shaped like a coffee mug. And read "Luke's Diner."

Obviously creativity was not part of the Danes genetic code, but if he made a decent cup of coffee, she'd forgive him his prosy sign. She crossed the street at a speed never before attempted by a Gilmore and burst through the door, gasping.

"Coffee!"

A man stood at a table near the door wearing a plaid flannel shirt, a backwards baseball cap, and about a week's growth of stubble. He looked up from his order pad.

"Take a seat, I'll be right with you," he said gruffly.

"Um, I'm sorry, but I can't take a seat," she said breathlessly. "I've had a terrible morning and I need coffee _now_."

"Well, _I'm _sorry, but you'll have to wait your turn." He turned and marched behind the counter, slapping an order on the kitchen window.

Lorelai followed him. "Listen, I know you don't know me. If you did, you'd know that all work and no coffee makes Lorelai a very, _very_ dull girl. So if you don't want an axe in your door…"

"You're annoying me," he said curtly, walking back out into the diner.

"You think this is annoying?" Lorelai scoffed. "This is not annoying. Refuse me coffee for ten more minutes and _then_ you'll see annoying." She ran around behind him as he took orders and refilled glasses. "Seriously. Do you _want_ me to drop to the floor and cling to your ankles as you drag a sobbing me around the floor? Because I _will_ do it, even though these jeans are brand new and way too cute to…"

"Look." Gruff Flannel Guy whirled around and spoke very slowly and clearly. "Sit down. Shut up. I'll be with you in a minute."

Lorelai plopped down on a stool and looked around. As Gruff Flannel Guy bustled around behind her, she spotted a newspaper on a nearby table. With a flash of inspiration she leapt up and grabbed it. When Gruff Flannel Guy turned around to find her standing behind him, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Jeez!"

"When's your birthday?"

"What?" He gave her a look that said that she was crazy.

"Your birthday, when's your birthday?"

"Why do you want to know?" He stomped past her to the counter.

"Well, you've just been so sweet to me, I want to be sure to get you a present."

He rolled his eyes and didn't answer.

"Tell me tell me tell me!"

"November twentieth," he snapped, turning to walk away.

"Wait, wait, give me a pen."

Growling, he pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and handed it to her. Lorelai bent over the newspaper, found the Scorpio horoscope, and began writing.

_You will meet an annoying woman today. Give her coffee and she will go away._

She sat tapping her fingers until he came back, then shoved the horoscope at him. "Here."

"What…"

"Read it."

He rolled his eyes again and looked down at the slip of paper in front of him. He didn't smile – something told her he didn't do that often – but the corners of his eyes crinkled and the edges of his mouth softened slightly. Very deliberately he placed a soup-bowl sized mug in front of her and, gorgeous blue eyes never leaving hers, filled it to the brim with coffee.

"_Excellent_ decision, my friend."

"Well, if it'll make you leave," he said with a smirk.

She lifted the mug to her lips, sipped, and was transported to a world of caffeinated bliss. She put the mug down and stared at the giver of such liquid ambrosia.

"Oh. My God," she said.

Gruff Flannel Guy, now to be known as the Giver of Life, looked up, confused. "What?"

"That," she said, pointing at the mug, "is absolutely the best cup of coffee I have ever had."

"Oh, yeah?"

"_Ever_."

"Good to know."

"I have to bring Rory here," she gushed. "Right after school."

"Sister?"

"Daughter."

Giver of Life blinked. "Daughter? Wait, are you – do you work at Mia's place?"

"Yeah. Head of housekeeping."

"Yeah, she's, uh, mentioned you. Lorelai Gilmore, right?"

Lorelai blinked. "Right. And you are?"

"Luke Danes."

Handy Man and Gruff Flannel Guy were one and the same. Lorelai wondered if that was a good thing.

"Oh. Great place," she said, gesturing at the diner.

"Thanks. Only a few months old."

"Well if nothing else, I will keep you in business by buying your coffee. _Lots_ of coffee."

"But you said you'd leave," Luke answered, the barest twinkle in his eye.

"Well, I lied." She checked her watch. "And I'm late. See you around, Keeper of the Coffee." She pulled her purse out.

"Keep it," Luke said. "First customers are on the house."

"Thanks," Lorelai smiled. Without thinking, she reached over and ripped the horoscope out of the newspaper, handing it to Luke. "Put that in your wallet and hang onto it."

He held the paper up and stared at her, the incredulous expression back on his face. "Huh?"

"Trust me. One day it'll bring you luck." Flashing him another grin, she turned and bounced out the door.

Luke grinned to himself and did as she instructed.

* * *

"And this guy said he'd never heard of Aerosmith!" Lane was saying indignantly. 

"Really?"

"I had to tell him songs, and then he said 'Oh, yeah, I've heard of them.'"

"That's bad." Rory shook her head. "I hope you didn't hurt him."

"I didn't have to. A dodgeball got him in the head when he wasn't looking."

The girls laughed as they walked in the door of Mrs. Kim's antique store. Weaving their way through the stacks of furniture, they found the kitchen and Mrs. Kim's infamous flaxseed muffins. They each took one and a cup of tea and sat down at the kitchen table to study.

"Lane," Rory said hesitantly after a few quiet minutes, "did you like middle school?"

Lane looked up from her English book and shrugged. "It was okay, I guess. You?"

"Oh, yeah," Rory said hastily. "I liked it okay, too. But…" she added after a pause, "wasn't it a little…I don't know…easy?"

"It was just the first day, Rory," Lane reassured her. "I'm sure it'll get harder."

Rory smiled as she looked down at her social studies text. "Sure. You're right."

* * *

Lorelai blew into the antiques store. "Rory, my life!" she called. "Mommy's here!" 

"Hello, Lorelai," said Mrs. Kim, appearing at her side.

"Oh! Hi, Mrs. Kim. Boy, jack-in-the-box has nothing on you."

"Rory and Lane are in the kitchen studying."

"Okay. Hey, thanks for letting Rory come here after school. I really don't want her to have to walk back to the house alone."

The perpetually serious look on Mrs. Kim's face softened a little. "She is a good girl. Good for her to have somewhere to go."

"I completely agree."

"You should get married. Then Rory can go home to you."

Lorelai blinked. "Well, I'll get right on that." Thankfully, Rory chose that moment to come around a chest of drawers. "Ah! Thank God!" She wrapped her daughter in a tight hug.

"Can't…breathe!" Rory gasped.

They said hasty goodbyes to the Kims and left the house, Lorelai still clutching Rory's arm in a vice-like grip.

"Mom, I can't feel my fingers!" Rory complained.

"Don't ever leave me alone with Mrs. Kim that long again," Lorelai said, a whine in her voice. "She came out of nowhere and then told me to get married!"

"It won't happen again," Rory said soothingly.

"You'll have to make it up to me," Lorelai grinned. "You'll have to buy me a coffee."

"I don't have any money."

"I'll loan it to you."

Rory nodded. "Weston's?"

Lorelai's eyes lit up and she sighed dreamily. "No, my darling. Mommy has found a little piece of heaven here on Earth where angels disguised as grumpy men serve you heavenly brown liquid in huge mugs."

"Good coffee?" Rory exclaimed.

"No, not good coffee. _Great_ coffee. The _best_ coffee," Lorelai corrected her. "And guess what? First-time customers are free!"

When they strolled into the diner, Lorelai waved at Luke, who was behind the counter again. He nodded at her. "Anywhere," he called.

Lorelai sauntered over to a young man with spiky brown hair. "Could you move, Kirk?" she asked sweetly.

He looked up at her, eyes wide. "Why? I got here first! You can't bully me."

"Don't do that to Kirk, Mom," Rory said, pulling on her mother's hand and sitting at another table.

"What can I get ya?" Luke asked, coming over and pulling out his order pad.

"Two burgers and two of those huge cups of coffee," Lorelai said promptly. "And remember…" she reached over and patted Rory's hand, "first-time customers are free!"

Luke pointed at the brunette girl with his pen. "This is your daughter?"

"Yup. This is Rory. Rory, this is Luke." Rory smiled.

"_She's_ not drinking coffee, is she?" Luke asked, sounding scandalized.

"Of course she is," Lorelai replied.

"She can't drink coffee! What is she, ten? Eleven?"

"Eleven," Lorelai answered in a voice that clearly said _What's your point?_

"That stuff is awful for her! It totally fries your central nervous system."

"Oh, fries!" Rory interjected. "Can we get fries too?"

"Yeah, add a big order of fries to that order," Lorelai agreed.

"You can't let her eat like this," Luke protested. "She'll die before she's thirty! Clogged arteries and fried nerves and stomach ulcers…"

"Ew, now I'm really not hungry." Lorelai made a face.

"Me either," Rory grumbled, looking at the table.

"So you don't want the burgers?" Luke asked, sounding triumphant.

"Food!" Rory cried.

"Oh, we want the burgers," her mother contradicted him.

"Fine. Burgers, but she doesn't get coffee," Luke said firmly.

"But I want coffee!" Rory exclaimed.

"No coffee for her," Luke replied. "Or no burgers."

"We want the burgers," Lorelai said.

"Good. Two burgers, one coffee."

"No, two burgers, two coffees."

"Only one coffee. Or no burgers."

"But we want the burgers!"

"Okay, then. One coffee."

"_Two_ coffees!"

Luke's face was turning purple. He gripped his pad so tightly his knuckles turned white. "I am not going to lose my temper," he told her through gritted teeth. "I haven't lost my temper in twenty years."

"Pilgrim," Lorelai said, apparently out of nowhere.

Luke stared at her as Rory giggled. "What?"

"Gonna belt me, McClintock?" she asked. He now looked completely bewildered. "Ever shoot anybody you didn't have to?" No answer. Rory was now in stitches.

"I'm getting your food," Luke grumbled, stomping away.

"Hurry back, Duke!" Lorelai called happily.

_A/N2: The unfortunate Aerosmith story is a true story. I had that exact conversation with a nice young man on parole at my winter break job. Not know Aerosmith...pshaw! Also, see if you can figure out where Lorelai's references are from!_

_Review please!_


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